I've got most of the next chapter done. I will try to edit it and get it up very soon. Thanks so much for your continued interest in this story. Check your PMs if you want to know more.
Star Trek: Tesseract -- Part II
- Thread starter kes7
- Start date
I've got most of the next chapter done. I will try to edit it and get it up very soon. Thanks so much for your continued interest in this story. Check your PMs if you want to know more.
CHAPTER TWELVE
USS Tesseract - Sickbay
The release of the hypospray burned cold against Icheb’s neck, in marked contrast to Julian Bashir’s warm hand holding him steady on the other side. “This is the scan Lieutenant O’Connor took of you earlier,” the doctor said, pointing to a graphic on the biobed display, “and this is the scan we took just now.” Icheb compared the two screens. The most recent scan showed a dramatic increase in synaptic activity. “Your synaptic pathways are showing signs of hyperstimulation, and I’m concerned about the extra stress on your cortical implants,” Julian said. “I recommend you limit your time spent interfacing with their ship.”
The doctor continued to speak, but Icheb was barely listening. His mind was going ten thousand directions at once. It was strangely exhilarating. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been able to think so widely and clearly about so many things. He also felt strongly agitated. His best friend and hundreds of others were in grave danger, and all of his good ideas to help them had been carelessly rejected by his captain. His mind sorted frantically through the data he had downloaded from the Resistance vessel’s computer core, formulating plan after backup plan. If they would only listen to him …
Within seconds, the drug Julian had injected started to take effect. The soaring feeling rapidly diminished, and his head started to ache – badly. Without warning, Julian pressed the hypo to his neck again. “That’s for the headache,” he said, as the small device delivered its payload. Icheb looked at him as if noticing him for the first time. “Thank you,” he said, but he couldn’t hide his irritated tone.
“Did you hear a word I just said?” Julian asked, looking at Icheb with concern.
“My synaptic pathways are showing signs of hyperstimulation, and you’re concerned about the extra stress on my cortical implants. You want me to limit my time spent interfacing with their ship.”
Julian gave him a bemused smirk. “Wonderful. Did you hear what I said after that?” he asked.
Icheb frowned. “No,” he admitted. He had been too distracted by his own thoughts, which was unusual for him, to say the least – in fact, he couldn’t remember it ever having happened before.
Julian seemed unsurprised. “I said, ‘Try to avoid connecting to their ship at all until I get a better look at these scans I took,” he repeated. “It’s possible we’ll need to remove that new implant.”
Icheb shook his head. “I’m fine. I simply need time to adapt. I’ll avoid any further interface with their vessel if that’s your recommendation, but I see no reason to remove the device. It could prove useful when we get closer to the auxiliary ships.”
Julian sighed. “Very well,” he conceded, “but I’m concerned about you. Please tell me if you feel anything different than usual. Lingering headache, vision changes, psychological symptoms, strange feelings. I can’t believe the captain let you go ahead with this in the first place,” he admitted. “And I’m honestly surprised you’d want to.”
Icheb frowned. “It wasn’t my first choice,” he said, “but it gave us a needed advantage in locating the evacuees. It would have been selfish to refuse for personal reasons. The alteration to my cortical array was minor and temporary. I can set aside my personal discomfort.”
“It seems you have,” Julian said lightly, and his tone seemed to imply that he thought there was more to it than that. Icheb blushed slightly, but did not respond. “Come here,” said Julian suddenly. “I want you to take a look at something.”
Icheb obediently slid off the edge of the biobed and followed the doctor over to Dena’s highly secured bedside. “I’m going to need your assistance in navigating some of these cybernetics,” Julian said, gesturing toward the woman’s still partially-opened skull, which exposed a section of her cortical array behind a sterile containment field. “I have the notes Voyager’s EMH recorded concerning the removal of Annika Hansen’s implants, along with yours and the other children you were rescued with, but each of your physiologies are unique. It seems that every time the Collective builds a drone, it’s a little bit differently than the last.”
Icheb nodded, staring down at the unconscious alien woman. Many of her bulky external implants had already been removed, leaving wounds to heal and additional technology to remove or neutralize beneath what was left of her skin. He thought of his own extensive scars after The Doctor had removed most of his implants, and the many months of regenerative treatments it had taken for them to heal completely. Even now, a few remained, the only spots on his body that were completely absent of freckles, slightly shiny compared to the surrounding skin. They, along with a few remaining visible stubs of implants, were the reason he almost always wore long sleeves and pants, even in hot climates. The woman in front of him was sure to have an even longer recovery period than he had, considering how much more extensive her implants had been.
“Perhaps you should wait and let her decide how best to proceed,” Icheb said quietly. “It’s possible that if she considers her situation carefully, she may desire to retain some of her more useful components.”
Julian looked at Icheb in surprise and gave him a questioning look. “Why do I think you’re not talking about Dena right now?” he asked.
Icheb refused to meet his gaze. “I simply mean that given the choice, she may wish to have greater control over the implants that remain. It is unlikely you will be able to remove them all,” he pointed out. He suddenly shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he apologized abruptly. “You’re right, I’m not feeling … like myself.” He suddenly glanced over at the door to Maren’s room. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to spend a couple of minutes with her while I’m here.”
Julian looked concerned, but nodded and gestured toward the door. “By all means.” Icheb noticed he kept an eye on him as he walked over to Maren’s door and entered her room.
Inside, he pulled a visitor’s chair next to her bedside and sat down in it, hard. He grabbed Maren’s hand in his own and held it tight. It felt cold to the touch. He looked at her sleeping face and suddenly felt very emotional. “I’m so sorry for everything,” he whispered to her. He leaned forward and brushed her cheek softly with his lips, then settled back into his chair, lost in thought. His mind was racing again, filled with thoughts of Maren, the missing ships, the Resistance, the Collective and everything else – only rather than feeling exhilarated this time, he felt weighed down by it all, and utterly exhausted. Within minutes, he was sound asleep.
*****
USS Tesseract – Main Engineering
“Absolutely not!” Telek nearly shouted. His antennae danced animatedly above his face, which was suddenly flushed a blue so intense it rivaled the swirling contents of the intermix chamber behind him. “With all due respect, sir, this is as insane as O’Connor’s plan to save those drones was. We know nothing about this technology. Our systems aren’t remotely compatible. And you want me risk a catastrophic overload of our power grid and a real chance of blowing us all to hell just to break regs and get to our destination a few hours faster?”
Adele regarded Telek calmly. His blunt Andorian directness aside, she certainly understood his hesitation. Nonetheless, she pressed on. “Commander Icheb believes this will work,” she said. “Every hour counts, and while you may not be familiar with this technology, Lakwa and her people, and to a lesser degree, Commander Icheb, most certainly are. They can provide you with the necessary instruction and supplies. Need I remind you,” she added, “that four hundred people are missing, most of them civilians?”
Telek glared down at his commanding officer, his antennae pointed straight at her. “You need remind me of nothing,” he replied hotly. “I am well aware of the situation. But with O’Connor in sickbay, it’s my responsibility to keep this vessel in one piece. As acting chief engineer, I strongly advise against this course of action. I’ve barely learned Omega exists, and you want me to use it to dump more power into this ship’s structural and propulsion systems than it was ever designed to take? It’s dangerous. Four hundred missing is four hundred missing, but there are another eleven hundred on this ship who stand a good chance of ending up dead if we attempt this. And then what good are we to the missing? That’s before I even get started on the insanity of the method you want me to use to make the modifications. I realize this ship carries a lot of Borg technology already, but using nanoprobes to alter the fundamental operations of this vessel is a step too far. I don’t care how much time it saves. Even O’Connor would say no to that one.”
Adele sighed and locked eyes with the tall Andorian. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” she said sincerely. “I agree with you completely.”
Telek looked surprised. “Captain?”
“I said, I agree with you,” Adele said. She sighed. “I wish there was a way to make this work. But I agree that the risks are simply too great to try this in the time we have left. I just needed a second opinion.”
“Captain, there may be another option,” Telek spoke up.
Adele raised her eyebrows. “I’m all ears.”
USS Tesseract - Sickbay
The release of the hypospray burned cold against Icheb’s neck, in marked contrast to Julian Bashir’s warm hand holding him steady on the other side. “This is the scan Lieutenant O’Connor took of you earlier,” the doctor said, pointing to a graphic on the biobed display, “and this is the scan we took just now.” Icheb compared the two screens. The most recent scan showed a dramatic increase in synaptic activity. “Your synaptic pathways are showing signs of hyperstimulation, and I’m concerned about the extra stress on your cortical implants,” Julian said. “I recommend you limit your time spent interfacing with their ship.”
The doctor continued to speak, but Icheb was barely listening. His mind was going ten thousand directions at once. It was strangely exhilarating. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been able to think so widely and clearly about so many things. He also felt strongly agitated. His best friend and hundreds of others were in grave danger, and all of his good ideas to help them had been carelessly rejected by his captain. His mind sorted frantically through the data he had downloaded from the Resistance vessel’s computer core, formulating plan after backup plan. If they would only listen to him …
Within seconds, the drug Julian had injected started to take effect. The soaring feeling rapidly diminished, and his head started to ache – badly. Without warning, Julian pressed the hypo to his neck again. “That’s for the headache,” he said, as the small device delivered its payload. Icheb looked at him as if noticing him for the first time. “Thank you,” he said, but he couldn’t hide his irritated tone.
“Did you hear a word I just said?” Julian asked, looking at Icheb with concern.
“My synaptic pathways are showing signs of hyperstimulation, and you’re concerned about the extra stress on my cortical implants. You want me to limit my time spent interfacing with their ship.”
Julian gave him a bemused smirk. “Wonderful. Did you hear what I said after that?” he asked.
Icheb frowned. “No,” he admitted. He had been too distracted by his own thoughts, which was unusual for him, to say the least – in fact, he couldn’t remember it ever having happened before.
Julian seemed unsurprised. “I said, ‘Try to avoid connecting to their ship at all until I get a better look at these scans I took,” he repeated. “It’s possible we’ll need to remove that new implant.”
Icheb shook his head. “I’m fine. I simply need time to adapt. I’ll avoid any further interface with their vessel if that’s your recommendation, but I see no reason to remove the device. It could prove useful when we get closer to the auxiliary ships.”
Julian sighed. “Very well,” he conceded, “but I’m concerned about you. Please tell me if you feel anything different than usual. Lingering headache, vision changes, psychological symptoms, strange feelings. I can’t believe the captain let you go ahead with this in the first place,” he admitted. “And I’m honestly surprised you’d want to.”
Icheb frowned. “It wasn’t my first choice,” he said, “but it gave us a needed advantage in locating the evacuees. It would have been selfish to refuse for personal reasons. The alteration to my cortical array was minor and temporary. I can set aside my personal discomfort.”
“It seems you have,” Julian said lightly, and his tone seemed to imply that he thought there was more to it than that. Icheb blushed slightly, but did not respond. “Come here,” said Julian suddenly. “I want you to take a look at something.”
Icheb obediently slid off the edge of the biobed and followed the doctor over to Dena’s highly secured bedside. “I’m going to need your assistance in navigating some of these cybernetics,” Julian said, gesturing toward the woman’s still partially-opened skull, which exposed a section of her cortical array behind a sterile containment field. “I have the notes Voyager’s EMH recorded concerning the removal of Annika Hansen’s implants, along with yours and the other children you were rescued with, but each of your physiologies are unique. It seems that every time the Collective builds a drone, it’s a little bit differently than the last.”
Icheb nodded, staring down at the unconscious alien woman. Many of her bulky external implants had already been removed, leaving wounds to heal and additional technology to remove or neutralize beneath what was left of her skin. He thought of his own extensive scars after The Doctor had removed most of his implants, and the many months of regenerative treatments it had taken for them to heal completely. Even now, a few remained, the only spots on his body that were completely absent of freckles, slightly shiny compared to the surrounding skin. They, along with a few remaining visible stubs of implants, were the reason he almost always wore long sleeves and pants, even in hot climates. The woman in front of him was sure to have an even longer recovery period than he had, considering how much more extensive her implants had been.
“Perhaps you should wait and let her decide how best to proceed,” Icheb said quietly. “It’s possible that if she considers her situation carefully, she may desire to retain some of her more useful components.”
Julian looked at Icheb in surprise and gave him a questioning look. “Why do I think you’re not talking about Dena right now?” he asked.
Icheb refused to meet his gaze. “I simply mean that given the choice, she may wish to have greater control over the implants that remain. It is unlikely you will be able to remove them all,” he pointed out. He suddenly shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he apologized abruptly. “You’re right, I’m not feeling … like myself.” He suddenly glanced over at the door to Maren’s room. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to spend a couple of minutes with her while I’m here.”
Julian looked concerned, but nodded and gestured toward the door. “By all means.” Icheb noticed he kept an eye on him as he walked over to Maren’s door and entered her room.
Inside, he pulled a visitor’s chair next to her bedside and sat down in it, hard. He grabbed Maren’s hand in his own and held it tight. It felt cold to the touch. He looked at her sleeping face and suddenly felt very emotional. “I’m so sorry for everything,” he whispered to her. He leaned forward and brushed her cheek softly with his lips, then settled back into his chair, lost in thought. His mind was racing again, filled with thoughts of Maren, the missing ships, the Resistance, the Collective and everything else – only rather than feeling exhilarated this time, he felt weighed down by it all, and utterly exhausted. Within minutes, he was sound asleep.
*****
USS Tesseract – Main Engineering
“Absolutely not!” Telek nearly shouted. His antennae danced animatedly above his face, which was suddenly flushed a blue so intense it rivaled the swirling contents of the intermix chamber behind him. “With all due respect, sir, this is as insane as O’Connor’s plan to save those drones was. We know nothing about this technology. Our systems aren’t remotely compatible. And you want me risk a catastrophic overload of our power grid and a real chance of blowing us all to hell just to break regs and get to our destination a few hours faster?”
Adele regarded Telek calmly. His blunt Andorian directness aside, she certainly understood his hesitation. Nonetheless, she pressed on. “Commander Icheb believes this will work,” she said. “Every hour counts, and while you may not be familiar with this technology, Lakwa and her people, and to a lesser degree, Commander Icheb, most certainly are. They can provide you with the necessary instruction and supplies. Need I remind you,” she added, “that four hundred people are missing, most of them civilians?”
Telek glared down at his commanding officer, his antennae pointed straight at her. “You need remind me of nothing,” he replied hotly. “I am well aware of the situation. But with O’Connor in sickbay, it’s my responsibility to keep this vessel in one piece. As acting chief engineer, I strongly advise against this course of action. I’ve barely learned Omega exists, and you want me to use it to dump more power into this ship’s structural and propulsion systems than it was ever designed to take? It’s dangerous. Four hundred missing is four hundred missing, but there are another eleven hundred on this ship who stand a good chance of ending up dead if we attempt this. And then what good are we to the missing? That’s before I even get started on the insanity of the method you want me to use to make the modifications. I realize this ship carries a lot of Borg technology already, but using nanoprobes to alter the fundamental operations of this vessel is a step too far. I don’t care how much time it saves. Even O’Connor would say no to that one.”
Adele sighed and locked eyes with the tall Andorian. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” she said sincerely. “I agree with you completely.”
Telek looked surprised. “Captain?”
“I said, I agree with you,” Adele said. She sighed. “I wish there was a way to make this work. But I agree that the risks are simply too great to try this in the time we have left. I just needed a second opinion.”
“Captain, there may be another option,” Telek spoke up.
Adele raised her eyebrows. “I’m all ears.”
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*running around waving arms wildly in happy dance*
THANK YOU!!! You never disappoint! I've been afraid to ask because I know you're swamped - so glad to see this in my mailbox this morning!!!
So afraid what this means for Icheb - I feel like I've known him for a long time - to feel that he might regret removing some of his implants and that he's tasting the enhancements of Borg technology again and finding it exhilarating - such a knife edge to dance upon! Eeeerk!
I confess - the older I get the more I sometimes think a few implants would help my processing. To have lost that capacity must be bittersweet - I don't imagine everyone would actually want to be stripped of it - even at the cost of personal freedom and individuality. Heresy; I know, but there it is.
Funny to see the captain's interaction with such a highly telepathic being as an Andorian - that they're not fending each other off telepathically says a lot to me about the trust they have established. I imagine the temptation to "put feelers out" as it were - must be strong to both.
THANK YOU!!! You never disappoint! I've been afraid to ask because I know you're swamped - so glad to see this in my mailbox this morning!!!
So afraid what this means for Icheb - I feel like I've known him for a long time - to feel that he might regret removing some of his implants and that he's tasting the enhancements of Borg technology again and finding it exhilarating - such a knife edge to dance upon! Eeeerk!
I confess - the older I get the more I sometimes think a few implants would help my processing. To have lost that capacity must be bittersweet - I don't imagine everyone would actually want to be stripped of it - even at the cost of personal freedom and individuality. Heresy; I know, but there it is.
Funny to see the captain's interaction with such a highly telepathic being as an Andorian - that they're not fending each other off telepathically says a lot to me about the trust they have established. I imagine the temptation to "put feelers out" as it were - must be strong to both.
^ Was it ever established that Andorians are telepathic? The Aenar certainly are. And the antennae give Andorians "quadroscopic vision."
Worrying developments for Icheb. He seems to see the point and reason of what Bashir is trying to tell him. Icheb can understand the danger of the connection - Bashir presents it basically in black and white so he cannot refute it - however, if I go back to the drug addict analogy, I'm sure many an addict is sure that continuing the drugs is a bad idea initially, but the temptation to share such an experience again becomes such that reason does not hold any sway over their actions. One wonders and worries how Icheb will fare; and will power alone be enough for him to exercise caution and patience.
Meantime, Adele finds herself turning to Telek to run the ideas past him. In part, she cannot trust Icheb's eagerness and she doesn't have her chief engineer to hand [not to mention those senior officers missing aboard the Sol and Luna]. So she finds she is running the idea past Telek who makes his stance very clear. It seems she only needed a second opinion but it seems telling that she now has to ask someone else instead of trusting her instincts. very telling given her empathic, emotional guidance in different affairs yet now she is asking for corroboration for the path to take.
Meantime, Adele finds herself turning to Telek to run the ideas past him. In part, she cannot trust Icheb's eagerness and she doesn't have her chief engineer to hand [not to mention those senior officers missing aboard the Sol and Luna]. So she finds she is running the idea past Telek who makes his stance very clear. It seems she only needed a second opinion but it seems telling that she now has to ask someone else instead of trusting her instincts. very telling given her empathic, emotional guidance in different affairs yet now she is asking for corroboration for the path to take.
I've been watching Voyager again lately and suddenly realizing how much I enjoy it. Of course nowadays I can't watch it without being reminded of that other ship that would travel to the Delta Quadrant years later.
I'm finding that Adele reminds me a lot of Janeway and no, I do mean that in a good way.
As for Icheb, the dude needs to simmer down for reals. Right now, he's straight up trippin'.
I'm finding that Adele reminds me a lot of Janeway and no, I do mean that in a good way.
As for Icheb, the dude needs to simmer down for reals. Right now, he's straight up trippin'.
Thanks for the enthusiastic review, ORSE! I'm glad you enjoyed this little chapter. I'm right there with you feeling like I need an implant or two to help with my processing of life in general right now, so I kind of feel for Icheb here. Still ... I think even he knows this is dangerous territory, or he wouldn't have said what he did to Lakwa in a previous chapter. Like he said ... he's not himself right now. As for the Andorians, as far as I know, it's just the Aenar who are telepaths, at least "in canon." Not sure about Pocket 'verse. Just assume that here in Tesseract land, Andorians are not able to read the minds or emotions of other species. 
mirandafave -- Ha! Icheb, patient? Cautious maybe (sometimes), but you have to admit patience isn't exactly his strong suit. He's incredibly confused right now. His whole world is going crazy, he's just had way too much information downloaded into his head, and he's got some serious cognitive dissonance going on between what he told Lakwa before and what he's telling Bashir now. He's a mess, but at least Bashir's hypospray pretty much knocked him out for now. Perhaps a little nap will do him good. Thanks for reading and reviewing.
CeJay -- I'm so happy you're enjoying VOY! It's my favorite (obviously) so I'm always thrilled to hear someone is rewatching it and liking it. Adele does have certain similarities to Janeway, but they've got their differences, too. As for Icheb ... yeah, he's trippin'. (That made me laugh out loud.) Luckily, Bashir just gave him a big ol' dose of "simmer down" in a hypo. We'll see what happens. I hope you'll stick around even though your own work is on hiatus.
Speaking of the dreaded 'H' word ... I haven't wanted to say anything, but I kind of feel like I need to explain the delays here.
Here's the deal: Encouraged by the people in my Real Life, along with several of you here, I've begun to seriously work on an original novel. As it turns out, it's a bit of a time suck.
Okay, that was an understatement. It is a supermassive black hole of time and energy suckage. It is the 'red matter' of time and energy suckage. Anyway, the bottom line is that it's not leaving a lot of time to work on Tesseract right now.
I don't think it'll be like this forever. It's just while I'm doing the initial world-building and plot outlining and character background stuff for the new novel. I need to get that right, and I need to get it DONE. And until I have it done, I can't give Tesseract as much attention.
I still intend to finish what I've started here, though, and the characters won't leave me alone (none of them are happy with their current situations, and would like me to write them out of them IMMEDIATELY), so I don't expect to go on long-term hiatus or anything like that. But if it's a few weeks between updates for a while ... now you know why. Thanks so much for your continued patience and support. I totally love you guys.
mirandafave -- Ha! Icheb, patient? Cautious maybe (sometimes), but you have to admit patience isn't exactly his strong suit. He's incredibly confused right now. His whole world is going crazy, he's just had way too much information downloaded into his head, and he's got some serious cognitive dissonance going on between what he told Lakwa before and what he's telling Bashir now. He's a mess, but at least Bashir's hypospray pretty much knocked him out for now. Perhaps a little nap will do him good. Thanks for reading and reviewing.
CeJay -- I'm so happy you're enjoying VOY! It's my favorite (obviously) so I'm always thrilled to hear someone is rewatching it and liking it. Adele does have certain similarities to Janeway, but they've got their differences, too. As for Icheb ... yeah, he's trippin'. (That made me laugh out loud.) Luckily, Bashir just gave him a big ol' dose of "simmer down" in a hypo. We'll see what happens. I hope you'll stick around even though your own work is on hiatus.
Speaking of the dreaded 'H' word ... I haven't wanted to say anything, but I kind of feel like I need to explain the delays here.
Here's the deal: Encouraged by the people in my Real Life, along with several of you here, I've begun to seriously work on an original novel. As it turns out, it's a bit of a time suck.
Okay, that was an understatement. It is a supermassive black hole of time and energy suckage. It is the 'red matter' of time and energy suckage. Anyway, the bottom line is that it's not leaving a lot of time to work on Tesseract right now. I don't think it'll be like this forever. It's just while I'm doing the initial world-building and plot outlining and character background stuff for the new novel. I need to get that right, and I need to get it DONE. And until I have it done, I can't give Tesseract as much attention.
I still intend to finish what I've started here, though, and the characters won't leave me alone (none of them are happy with their current situations, and would like me to write them out of them IMMEDIATELY), so I don't expect to go on long-term hiatus or anything like that. But if it's a few weeks between updates for a while ... now you know why. Thanks so much for your continued patience and support. I totally love you guys.
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^ Group hug. I know the feeling hoping to get out a few chapters of one of my stories in the last month, but the kid takes precedence.
On the subject of Andorians, nothing in Memory Beta suggests Andorians are telepathic, but they do have superior perceptual abilities. One of my works attempts to reconcile various contradictions though.
On the subject of Andorians, nothing in Memory Beta suggests Andorians are telepathic, but they do have superior perceptual abilities. One of my works attempts to reconcile various contradictions though.
Look forward to it. 
I, myself, have a long bout of writer's block with my two novel length stories.
I, myself, have a long bout of writer's block with my two novel length stories.
Miss this story? So did I. So I wrote a chapter. I'd like to get back into this. It has been a crazy year with tremendous ups and downs. Through it all, I've really missed the Tesseract universe. Here's hoping you all do, too.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A warp coast was a tricky maneuver. The acceleration, the cutoff, the trajectory … everything had to be just right. Sensor readings, good ones, were a must.
Unfortunately, the sensor readings emanating from the destroyed region of subspace just ahead of the Tesseract were an absolute mess. Adele briefly weighed the possibility of hooking Icheb up to the resistance ship again to get a better look, but decided it would be better to use the data he’d downloaded the first time. The last time she had seen her first officer, he had been out cold in Maren O’Connor’s room in sickbay. With both troubled officers unconscious, Adele’s mind felt clearer than it had in days. She had decided to let him sleep.
The bridge was cleared of all non-essential personnel, which basically meant it had been cleared of everyone Adele didn’t want with her right now. There wasn’t a Borg implant to be seen on the bridge, nor a single member of the advisory board. It was just Adele, her helmsman, and her communications officer. Iden kept an open comm. link to Telek in engineering.
Adrian Keller drummed his fingers nervously on the edge of his console. The pilot looked as if he could use a nap, himself. Adele tried to block the overwhelming worry she felt coming off of him in waves, and said a quick prayer that his family would be all right … that everyone would be all right. The prayer felt hollow, as did her stomach. Deep down, she was not optimistic about what they were going to find inside the subspace rupture.
At her command, Telek fired up the warp drive. “Give me 125 percent power,” she ordered. She felt the enormous force of the reaction building. It resonated through the deck plating, first a slow throb, then increasing in speed until it was a frenetic vibration that slightly distorted the sound of her voice as she said, “Execute warp coast maneuver, now.”
The stars around them stretched and snapped out of view. Telek cut power to the engines. In three minutes, they would know if their aim was true. All they could do now was wait.
*****
All John could think is that he should have told her. As he sat on the floor of the wrecked engineering chamber of the USS Sol, feeling his skin blister beneath his EV suit and trying not to vomit, all he could think is that he should have told Maren O’Connor he loved her when he had the chance.
He knew it was his imagination, but he could still taste their drunken kiss on his lips. He could feel her body, warm and close next to his as she cried over their best friend.
He wondered if he was dying.
He fought the thought. At twenty-seven, he wasn’t ready to die. There had to be about a million ways out of this situation.
But he was tired, and sweaty and sick. He wasn’t sure he could make it back to the decontaminated area to request a beamout if he tried.
“Warning. Radiation at critical levels. Evacuate immediately,” said the computer, for approximately the three billionth time.
“Fuck you,” he replied.
No matter what he did, the computer wouldn’t stop blasting its warnings. Apparently these words of caution were too important to obey his “cancel audio” order. If he’d known something more about engineering, he might have known which plasma conduit to take out with his phaser to shut it up, but as it was, his mind was fuzzier than usual anyway.
He wondered about the Kellers, Claire and Lucy, whether they were still alive. He wondered if the Luna would make it back to the Tesseract. He wondered if Icheb had made it back unharmed. He wondered a lot of things, and the more he wondered, the more certain he was he would never know the answers to any of it.
He wondered if Maren missed him.
He was doing this for her. Only for her. He had decided the moment the thought entered his mind that there was no way he could self-destruct the Sol and face Maren afterward. Someone had to make sure she got this pile of damaged equipment back, so she could fix it. They only had three slipstream drives, one of them was on this ship, and there was no way they could safely mine enough resources to build a new ship in the middle of a war zone.
If he could just hold on long enough, someone would come for them. He would hang on until the bitter end, if that was what it took.
It was starting to look like that was exactly what it would take.
“Lieutenant Quigley.” T’Pring’s voice sounded strange, faraway over the suit comm. He thought he detected a hint of worry, but decided that was stupid. Vulcans didn’t worry.
“I’m here, T’Pring,” he said.
“You must move to where the radiation interference is less so we can beam you out. Do it now. Radiation levels are critical.”
“T’Pring, I’m not going anywhere. I can hang for a while. Gotta hold the ship together, you know.”
“Lieutenant.” Now she did sound worried. He was sure of it. “There’s nothing left of the ship. Evacuate now, while you’re still conscious.”
“No.” His answer was short, as he silenced his comm. to hide a coughing jag that threatened to force the contents of his stomach into his helmet.
He was being stupid, he knew. T’Pring was right, there was almost nothing left of the ship. If he blew it up, she’d back him up when they returned to the Tesseract. If they returned. No one would blame him. Hell, he’d probably get a medal when this was all over.
“A posthumous medal,” he snarked aloud, choking on a bitter laugh. He could hardly breathe.
“Lieutenant, I didn’t copy your last. Say again?”
John frowned. He knew his comm. was inactive. He switched it back on. “Nothing to copy, sir,” he said, his voice raspy. “I’m staying –“ He stopped as he realized she hadn’t been talking to him. He could hear a voice in the background of the transmission. It sounded like Iden Nix.
There was a crackle and then, “ -- to Sol or Luna. Do you read?” It was definitely Iden. She sounded scared to death.
Was he hallucinating? He had to be.
“Iden? That you?” He knew she couldn’t hear him. “It’s about fucking time,” he muttered.
His world blurred around the edges, then went dark.
*****
“Do you have them?” Adele leaned breathlessly over Iden’s shoulder, trying desperately to hear whatever the Bolian was hearing. Iden’s ears were incredibly sensitive, much more sensitive than anyone else’s on the bridge.
Iden shushed the captain, and gave her a quick nod. “I can hear T’Pring,” she said. She frowned. “The interference is horrible. If I’m hearing her right, everyone but John Quigley is on the Luna, and she lost contact with Quigley a few minutes ago.”
Adele paused a moment as the implications of that set in. The Sol was almost certainly a total loss if they’d evacuated everyone to the Luna. And if Quigley was in command of the Sol, that meant Borux was incapacitated or dead. She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat at the thought.
One thing that didn’t seem to be affected by the subspace damage or radiation levels was her empathic senses, which still seemed stronger than ever. They were a little too far away for her to make out individual emotions, but a pervasive sense of terror and loss emanated from the broken ships ahead of them. It had overcome her the moment they had coasted into the subspace breach. She kept a stone face, not wanting to upset Adrian Keller any more than he already was.
The man was performing admirably under sickening circumstances, but she could feel his fear drowning out every other emotion on the bridge. “Take us closer,” she ordered him.
****
Julian watched on a monitor in sickbay as the Tesseract approached the broken ships. Irina Marchenko stood beside him, stone faced.
“Bozhe moi,” she whispered. In the quiet of sickbay, he could hear her draw in a breath and hold it as she examined the image on the screen.
“Get everyone with medical training in here now,” he said. “We’re going to need all the help we can get.”
“What can I do?” a voice asked behind him. He turned around to find a disheveled-looking Icheb standing there. The younger man’s usually impeccable hair was tousled, and his usually pale face flushed. “I have extensive training,” he said.
Julian recalled from his personnel files that Icheb was not exaggerating. He had completed most of a medical degree at the Academy while studying genetics. He nodded at the younger officer. “Do what you can,” he said. He retrieved a medical tricorder and handed it to Icheb. “How are you feeling?” he asked him.
Icheb set his thin lips in a straight line, his expression unreadable. He nodded once. “Fine,” he said. “I feel fine.” Julian thought Icheb was a rather poor liar, but chose not to call him on it. He seemed functional enough, and when survivors started swarming sickbay, he really would need the extra help. Still, he gave Icheb a quick scan with his own tricorder, and didn’t like what he saw.
“You can help here,” he told Icheb, “but I’m keeping you for observation, too. You’re still showing signs of neural overstimulation and your implants aren’t handling it well. I want you to spend some time regenerating as soon as possible.”
Icheb frowned, but nodded his assent and walked away, fiddling with the tricorder.
Julian turned his attention to the door, where medics were beginning to file in. He glanced over at the Borg woman, who had suddenly become an afterthought. He tapped his combadge and called security. “I think we’re going to need more guards,” he told them. There was no telling how the civilian patients would react to the presence of a drone. He stroked his beard anxiously and looked at the monitor again. They were almost on top of the ships, now. A tractor beam shot out from the Tesseract’s open hangar bay and locked on to both ships. His combadge chirped.
“Oyugo to Bashir,” Adele’s voice came over the link. “Prepare to receive survivors.”
****
T’Pring’s face was smeared with dried green blood. That was the first thing Adele noticed as she rushed into sickbay. The second was John Quigley. The young man was unconscious. The medics were pulling off his EV suit helmet. She could see his face was red and covered in blisters.
All around her, people looked like that. She did her best to block out their misery. “T’Pring,” she addressed the officer who seemed in the best shape to give her a report. “What happened here?” Icheb appeared beside her at that moment. She saw his eyes widen and felt his concern as he took in the sight of John Quigley, but he quickly returned his focus to T’Pring.
“We were attacked,” T’Pring told them flatly, as Icheb began scanning her with a medical tricorder. “A single cloaked ship with formidable weaponry. We were able to destroy their vessel with a triphasic torpedo, but the resulting explosion disabled our ships and appears to have damaged subspace over a significant area.”
“Were you able to identify the ship that fired on you?” Icheb asked, still scanning her.
“Negative,” she replied.
“We have reason to believe it was a Resistance Borg ship,” Adele said, “based on the physical evidence from the explosion. What we don’t yet know is why.”
T’Pring said nothing. Seemingly satisfied with his scan, Icheb dosed her with a painkiller and closed the gash on her forehead. He quickly moved over to where John Quigley was being worked on by an anxious-looking Sheila Duggal. The young doctor was covered in blisters of her own. Adele joined Icheb beside her.
“Is he going to be all right?” Adele asked. Sheila ignored her for a moment and turned to retrieve a hypospray from a nearby medic, which she used to inject John. Only then did she look up from her patient.
“I hope so,” she said. “He stayed aboard the Sol after everyone else left. We tried to get him to come to the Luna, but he wouldn’t do it. He just kept saying he couldn’t let the ship be destroyed. Like it wasn’t already.” She shook her head. “He saved so many lives today. I can’t believe he’d just throw away his own.”
Icheb frowned down at his friend and moved to take over for Sheila. “You’re also ill,” he told her. “You require treatment.”
“So treat me,” Sheila replied. “But I’m not done here.” Icheb looked like he might protest, but then turned his tricorder on Sheila instead.
Adele looked around the rest of the crowded sickbay until her eyes fell on Julian. He looked sickened. As she looked at him, he glanced up from his patient and locked eyes with her. She was instantly hit with a feeling of anguish.
She looked down at the patient he was treating. It was Claire Keller. On the biobed beside them, little Bennett Keller was being scanned by Irina Marchenko. Both Claire and Bennett were unconscious.
Beyond them, on yet another biobed, lay an even smaller body covered with a sheet.
Lucy Keller was dead.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A warp coast was a tricky maneuver. The acceleration, the cutoff, the trajectory … everything had to be just right. Sensor readings, good ones, were a must.
Unfortunately, the sensor readings emanating from the destroyed region of subspace just ahead of the Tesseract were an absolute mess. Adele briefly weighed the possibility of hooking Icheb up to the resistance ship again to get a better look, but decided it would be better to use the data he’d downloaded the first time. The last time she had seen her first officer, he had been out cold in Maren O’Connor’s room in sickbay. With both troubled officers unconscious, Adele’s mind felt clearer than it had in days. She had decided to let him sleep.
The bridge was cleared of all non-essential personnel, which basically meant it had been cleared of everyone Adele didn’t want with her right now. There wasn’t a Borg implant to be seen on the bridge, nor a single member of the advisory board. It was just Adele, her helmsman, and her communications officer. Iden kept an open comm. link to Telek in engineering.
Adrian Keller drummed his fingers nervously on the edge of his console. The pilot looked as if he could use a nap, himself. Adele tried to block the overwhelming worry she felt coming off of him in waves, and said a quick prayer that his family would be all right … that everyone would be all right. The prayer felt hollow, as did her stomach. Deep down, she was not optimistic about what they were going to find inside the subspace rupture.
At her command, Telek fired up the warp drive. “Give me 125 percent power,” she ordered. She felt the enormous force of the reaction building. It resonated through the deck plating, first a slow throb, then increasing in speed until it was a frenetic vibration that slightly distorted the sound of her voice as she said, “Execute warp coast maneuver, now.”
The stars around them stretched and snapped out of view. Telek cut power to the engines. In three minutes, they would know if their aim was true. All they could do now was wait.
*****
All John could think is that he should have told her. As he sat on the floor of the wrecked engineering chamber of the USS Sol, feeling his skin blister beneath his EV suit and trying not to vomit, all he could think is that he should have told Maren O’Connor he loved her when he had the chance.
He knew it was his imagination, but he could still taste their drunken kiss on his lips. He could feel her body, warm and close next to his as she cried over their best friend.
He wondered if he was dying.
He fought the thought. At twenty-seven, he wasn’t ready to die. There had to be about a million ways out of this situation.
But he was tired, and sweaty and sick. He wasn’t sure he could make it back to the decontaminated area to request a beamout if he tried.
“Warning. Radiation at critical levels. Evacuate immediately,” said the computer, for approximately the three billionth time.
“Fuck you,” he replied.
No matter what he did, the computer wouldn’t stop blasting its warnings. Apparently these words of caution were too important to obey his “cancel audio” order. If he’d known something more about engineering, he might have known which plasma conduit to take out with his phaser to shut it up, but as it was, his mind was fuzzier than usual anyway.
He wondered about the Kellers, Claire and Lucy, whether they were still alive. He wondered if the Luna would make it back to the Tesseract. He wondered if Icheb had made it back unharmed. He wondered a lot of things, and the more he wondered, the more certain he was he would never know the answers to any of it.
He wondered if Maren missed him.
He was doing this for her. Only for her. He had decided the moment the thought entered his mind that there was no way he could self-destruct the Sol and face Maren afterward. Someone had to make sure she got this pile of damaged equipment back, so she could fix it. They only had three slipstream drives, one of them was on this ship, and there was no way they could safely mine enough resources to build a new ship in the middle of a war zone.
If he could just hold on long enough, someone would come for them. He would hang on until the bitter end, if that was what it took.
It was starting to look like that was exactly what it would take.
“Lieutenant Quigley.” T’Pring’s voice sounded strange, faraway over the suit comm. He thought he detected a hint of worry, but decided that was stupid. Vulcans didn’t worry.
“I’m here, T’Pring,” he said.
“You must move to where the radiation interference is less so we can beam you out. Do it now. Radiation levels are critical.”
“T’Pring, I’m not going anywhere. I can hang for a while. Gotta hold the ship together, you know.”
“Lieutenant.” Now she did sound worried. He was sure of it. “There’s nothing left of the ship. Evacuate now, while you’re still conscious.”
“No.” His answer was short, as he silenced his comm. to hide a coughing jag that threatened to force the contents of his stomach into his helmet.
He was being stupid, he knew. T’Pring was right, there was almost nothing left of the ship. If he blew it up, she’d back him up when they returned to the Tesseract. If they returned. No one would blame him. Hell, he’d probably get a medal when this was all over.
“A posthumous medal,” he snarked aloud, choking on a bitter laugh. He could hardly breathe.
“Lieutenant, I didn’t copy your last. Say again?”
John frowned. He knew his comm. was inactive. He switched it back on. “Nothing to copy, sir,” he said, his voice raspy. “I’m staying –“ He stopped as he realized she hadn’t been talking to him. He could hear a voice in the background of the transmission. It sounded like Iden Nix.
There was a crackle and then, “ -- to Sol or Luna. Do you read?” It was definitely Iden. She sounded scared to death.
Was he hallucinating? He had to be.
“Iden? That you?” He knew she couldn’t hear him. “It’s about fucking time,” he muttered.
His world blurred around the edges, then went dark.
*****
“Do you have them?” Adele leaned breathlessly over Iden’s shoulder, trying desperately to hear whatever the Bolian was hearing. Iden’s ears were incredibly sensitive, much more sensitive than anyone else’s on the bridge.
Iden shushed the captain, and gave her a quick nod. “I can hear T’Pring,” she said. She frowned. “The interference is horrible. If I’m hearing her right, everyone but John Quigley is on the Luna, and she lost contact with Quigley a few minutes ago.”
Adele paused a moment as the implications of that set in. The Sol was almost certainly a total loss if they’d evacuated everyone to the Luna. And if Quigley was in command of the Sol, that meant Borux was incapacitated or dead. She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat at the thought.
One thing that didn’t seem to be affected by the subspace damage or radiation levels was her empathic senses, which still seemed stronger than ever. They were a little too far away for her to make out individual emotions, but a pervasive sense of terror and loss emanated from the broken ships ahead of them. It had overcome her the moment they had coasted into the subspace breach. She kept a stone face, not wanting to upset Adrian Keller any more than he already was.
The man was performing admirably under sickening circumstances, but she could feel his fear drowning out every other emotion on the bridge. “Take us closer,” she ordered him.
****
Julian watched on a monitor in sickbay as the Tesseract approached the broken ships. Irina Marchenko stood beside him, stone faced.
“Bozhe moi,” she whispered. In the quiet of sickbay, he could hear her draw in a breath and hold it as she examined the image on the screen.
“Get everyone with medical training in here now,” he said. “We’re going to need all the help we can get.”
“What can I do?” a voice asked behind him. He turned around to find a disheveled-looking Icheb standing there. The younger man’s usually impeccable hair was tousled, and his usually pale face flushed. “I have extensive training,” he said.
Julian recalled from his personnel files that Icheb was not exaggerating. He had completed most of a medical degree at the Academy while studying genetics. He nodded at the younger officer. “Do what you can,” he said. He retrieved a medical tricorder and handed it to Icheb. “How are you feeling?” he asked him.
Icheb set his thin lips in a straight line, his expression unreadable. He nodded once. “Fine,” he said. “I feel fine.” Julian thought Icheb was a rather poor liar, but chose not to call him on it. He seemed functional enough, and when survivors started swarming sickbay, he really would need the extra help. Still, he gave Icheb a quick scan with his own tricorder, and didn’t like what he saw.
“You can help here,” he told Icheb, “but I’m keeping you for observation, too. You’re still showing signs of neural overstimulation and your implants aren’t handling it well. I want you to spend some time regenerating as soon as possible.”
Icheb frowned, but nodded his assent and walked away, fiddling with the tricorder.
Julian turned his attention to the door, where medics were beginning to file in. He glanced over at the Borg woman, who had suddenly become an afterthought. He tapped his combadge and called security. “I think we’re going to need more guards,” he told them. There was no telling how the civilian patients would react to the presence of a drone. He stroked his beard anxiously and looked at the monitor again. They were almost on top of the ships, now. A tractor beam shot out from the Tesseract’s open hangar bay and locked on to both ships. His combadge chirped.
“Oyugo to Bashir,” Adele’s voice came over the link. “Prepare to receive survivors.”
****
T’Pring’s face was smeared with dried green blood. That was the first thing Adele noticed as she rushed into sickbay. The second was John Quigley. The young man was unconscious. The medics were pulling off his EV suit helmet. She could see his face was red and covered in blisters.
All around her, people looked like that. She did her best to block out their misery. “T’Pring,” she addressed the officer who seemed in the best shape to give her a report. “What happened here?” Icheb appeared beside her at that moment. She saw his eyes widen and felt his concern as he took in the sight of John Quigley, but he quickly returned his focus to T’Pring.
“We were attacked,” T’Pring told them flatly, as Icheb began scanning her with a medical tricorder. “A single cloaked ship with formidable weaponry. We were able to destroy their vessel with a triphasic torpedo, but the resulting explosion disabled our ships and appears to have damaged subspace over a significant area.”
“Were you able to identify the ship that fired on you?” Icheb asked, still scanning her.
“Negative,” she replied.
“We have reason to believe it was a Resistance Borg ship,” Adele said, “based on the physical evidence from the explosion. What we don’t yet know is why.”
T’Pring said nothing. Seemingly satisfied with his scan, Icheb dosed her with a painkiller and closed the gash on her forehead. He quickly moved over to where John Quigley was being worked on by an anxious-looking Sheila Duggal. The young doctor was covered in blisters of her own. Adele joined Icheb beside her.
“Is he going to be all right?” Adele asked. Sheila ignored her for a moment and turned to retrieve a hypospray from a nearby medic, which she used to inject John. Only then did she look up from her patient.
“I hope so,” she said. “He stayed aboard the Sol after everyone else left. We tried to get him to come to the Luna, but he wouldn’t do it. He just kept saying he couldn’t let the ship be destroyed. Like it wasn’t already.” She shook her head. “He saved so many lives today. I can’t believe he’d just throw away his own.”
Icheb frowned down at his friend and moved to take over for Sheila. “You’re also ill,” he told her. “You require treatment.”
“So treat me,” Sheila replied. “But I’m not done here.” Icheb looked like he might protest, but then turned his tricorder on Sheila instead.
Adele looked around the rest of the crowded sickbay until her eyes fell on Julian. He looked sickened. As she looked at him, he glanced up from his patient and locked eyes with her. She was instantly hit with a feeling of anguish.
She looked down at the patient he was treating. It was Claire Keller. On the biobed beside them, little Bennett Keller was being scanned by Irina Marchenko. Both Claire and Bennett were unconscious.
Beyond them, on yet another biobed, lay an even smaller body covered with a sheet.
Lucy Keller was dead.
Great to have this story back even if it starts out (or ends up) being a serious downer.
It's been awhile since I read this but the details where slowly coming back to me. It'll probably help if we get some more chapters soon.
John's the hero here even if I'm sure he won't see it this way. Thanks to him both ships, and more importantly most of its passengers survived. And did he learn something about himself in the process? We'll have to see.
It's been awhile since I read this but the details where slowly coming back to me. It'll probably help if we get some more chapters soon.
John's the hero here even if I'm sure he won't see it this way. Thanks to him both ships, and more importantly most of its passengers survived. And did he learn something about himself in the process? We'll have to see.
So glad to see another chapter! I haven't seen you about the board, hope you are well!
I have lost a couple details so will have to re-read the previous chapters; a fun and worthwhile task!
Th deat of a little one is tough to imagine and I imagine you approached that one with a little trepidation. I do so look forward to more chapters as your life allows!
Thank you!
Kim
I have lost a couple details so will have to re-read the previous chapters; a fun and worthwhile task!
Th deat of a little one is tough to imagine and I imagine you approached that one with a little trepidation. I do so look forward to more chapters as your life allows!
Thank you!
Kim
I’m so glad to see you’ve returned to this story! 
And then I remembered where you’d left us… the chaos and the devastation and the angst… and then I was even happier you’d returned!
This was a brutal aftermath as the crew and survivors of the two smaller ships are picking up the pieces, or in John’s case, waiting to die in order to avoid that pain.
As always, your story is breathtaking in both its scope and it’s emotional impact.
Welcome back, you haven’t missed a beat.
And then I remembered where you’d left us… the chaos and the devastation and the angst… and then I was even happier you’d returned!
This was a brutal aftermath as the crew and survivors of the two smaller ships are picking up the pieces, or in John’s case, waiting to die in order to avoid that pain.
As always, your story is breathtaking in both its scope and it’s emotional impact.
Welcome back, you haven’t missed a beat.
Oh man, sooooo happy to see this chapter up! I have missed Tesseract so much. Since we started posting on here around the same time, I've always associated Tesseract with Restoration in my head. Seeing you posting more has motivated me to get back to my story as well!
And what a chapter to return with. You immersed us right back in this world without losing a beat, throwing so many curveballs at us in such a short session! To see John on the edge of death, holding on with all he was worth so that he could help the other crewmember survive... :gulp: And as for the ending... :sob:
So much goodness here, can't wait for more!!! So good to see you back.
And what a chapter to return with. You immersed us right back in this world without losing a beat, throwing so many curveballs at us in such a short session! To see John on the edge of death, holding on with all he was worth so that he could help the other crewmember survive... :gulp: And as for the ending... :sob:
So much goodness here, can't wait for more!!! So good to see you back.
NOOOOO! I had a whole reply written and the board ATE it! Ugh, here we go again, then.
I am so glad you guys are still interested in this story! I am glad to be back here with you guys, too! The past year has been crazy with health issues and family issues, but things are better lately and I'm looking forward to picking up where I left off. Thanks SO much for reading and reviewing.
Just fair warning, the next couple/few chapters are going to be a little rough as people learn about their losses and face the consequences, but it won't be endless misery. There are some bright spots on the horizon. Getting back into this story has been interesting. I've made some pretty significant alterations to the outline, but I think they will be for the best.
Thanks again for reading and commenting. You guys are the best. *hugs*
I am so glad you guys are still interested in this story! I am glad to be back here with you guys, too! The past year has been crazy with health issues and family issues, but things are better lately and I'm looking forward to picking up where I left off. Thanks SO much for reading and reviewing.
Just fair warning, the next couple/few chapters are going to be a little rough as people learn about their losses and face the consequences, but it won't be endless misery. There are some bright spots on the horizon. Getting back into this story has been interesting. I've made some pretty significant alterations to the outline, but I think they will be for the best.
Thanks again for reading and commenting. You guys are the best. *hugs*
So ... the subject matter of the next chapter is way too close to home given current events. I feel it would be extraordinarily disrespectful to post it this week. I'll leave the decision up to you guys ... hold off for a while and wait for emotions to cool down, or skip the next chapter entirely and move on with the understanding that you can all fill in the blanks as to how Adrian Keller reacts to this tragedy?
Kes7, you didn’t create this most recent tragedy, and the events leading up to this portion of your story were set down on paper a long time ago.
I recommend you be true to your characters and your story and post it. Adrian’s grief isn’t hers alone, it belongs to all of us. Just as Newtown's does.
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